


Game Night

by DeansDirtyLittleSecret



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Multi, No Wincest, Oral Sex, Threesome, Vaginal Fingering, Winchester Sandwich
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-19 14:30:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4749845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeansDirtyLittleSecret/pseuds/DeansDirtyLittleSecret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reader Request: A very, very smutty TFW x reader, caused by game night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Game Night

**Author's Note:**

> I chose not to do all of TFW, instead I just wrote it as Sam and Dean. The game I chose was Twister.

You dug through the closet in the hallway of the house you and the Winchester brothers were squatting in. After two days of waiting for something to happen, you were bored, so you’d started exploring, wondering what you could find. People always left stuff behind when they moved.

“Yes,” you laughed, yanking the various boxes out of the closet. You carried them down the hallway to the living room where Sam and Dean had spread out blankets and sleeping bags.

Dean and Sam were passing a bottle of whiskey back and forth, laughing at some private joke you were sure you wouldn’t understand. You dropped the boxes to the floor between them and sat down.

“What the hell are those?” Dean asked.

“Games,” you said. “You have seen games before, right?”

“Ha ha, you’re funny,” Dean snapped. “What did you drag them out for?”

“I’m bored, I thought we could do something besides sit here and drink,” you shrugged.

“I’d rather sit here and drink,” he grumbled.

Sam starting rifling through the stack of boxes, examining each box briefly before tossing them to the side. Dean joined him just a second later.

“Monopoly,” Dean sneered. “Nope, we’ll be here for days.”

“Candyland?” Sam laughed. “You’re joking, right?” He threw the box across the room.

You pouted, slightly irritated that the boys didn’t seem to share your enthusiasm for games. They made quick work of the stack, leaving just one box on the floor.

“Twister,” Dean said, picking up the box with the people contorted into different positions all over the front. “Now this is a possibility.”

You looked between the boys and the thought of being tangled up, arms twisted, legs wrapped up, with either one of them caused heat to pool between in the pit of your stomach. It didn’t take much to imagine it, after all you’d slept with both brothers at one time or another. You stared at the floor, took a deep shuddering breath and prayed neither of them noticed the pink flush in your cheeks.

They must have noticed, they had to have noticed, because when you finally looked at them, Dean was smirking and Sam looked like the proverbial cat that swallowed the canary.

“I want to play Twister,” Sam murmured quietly, his eyes never leaving yours.

You swallowed around the lump in your throat, nodding, your head bobbling on your neck like one of those little dolls everyone seemed to be collecting nowadays. Sam leaned over to untie his boots, his hair falling into his face. Once his boots were off, he slipped off the brown and orange monstrosity he called a shirt, dropping it to the floor behind him.

You opened the box and pulled out the spinner and floor mat, pushing yourself to your feet to spread it out on the floor just at the edge of the blankets. You wiggled out of the heavy sweater you were wearing and kicked off your tennis shoes.

“All right, let’s go,” Sam chuckled, pushing himself to his feet.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Dean grumbled, grabbing Sam’s leg. “Who said you get to go first?”

“What, you actually want to play?” Sam asked.

Dean looked over at you and Jesus Christ, he did that thing he always did with his tongue, licking those full, pink lips, making you wet just from the thought of what that tongue, that mouth, those lips, could do. “Yeah, I want to play,” he practically growled. His voice was low and rough, whiskey thick.

Sam sighed heavily. “Fine. Rock, paper, scissors?” he asked.

Dean lost, which came as no surprise to either you or Sam, though he acted like he hadn’t expected it. He took the spinner and sat on the floor just by the edge of the floormat, grumbling about Sam getting all the fun. He spun it so hard you thought the pointer was going to come off and fly across the room.

“Right hand, red,” he muttered.

You and Sam moved into position, each of you putting a hand on the closest red circle. Dean kept calling out colors, ordering you to put our hands or feet on the correct circle. You were slowly but surely moving closer and closer to Sam.

The next spin had Sam putting his arm around your back to put his left hand on a green circle. He was so close you could smell the sharp tang of his sweat mixed with the scent of his aftershave. God, he smelled so good, like sex walking. You tried to breath shallowly as you waited for Dean to give you your next move.

“Left hand, yellow,” Dean instructed.

That one turned out to be easy, you just had to move your hand a little bit, no twisting or turning necessary. You breathed a sigh of relief.

“Okay, Sammy,” Dean said. “Left foot, green.”

“Are you kidding me?” Sam muttered, letting out an irritated huff of breath. He looked like he was debating where and how to move, finally opting to try and put his leg completely over your body.

Which was the wrong move. You heard Sam’s ‘oh shit” just before he fell, his long arms wrapping around you as he came crashing down. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Dean toss aside the spinner and lunge forward to grab you, trying to get you out of the way before Sam crushed you under his two hundred plus pounds.

Dean managed to pull you just slightly out from underneath his brother, your head in his lap, his hands resting just under your breasts. Sam fell right between your legs, sprawled out over you, his face pressed against your stomach.

You started to laugh, after all what else could you do when you ended up in a Winchester sandwich? Except the laugh caught in your throat and turned to a moan when Sam pushed up the edge of the tank top you were wearing and began mouthing hot, wet kisses along the waistband of your jeans.

Before you could open your mouth to protest, or beg, or maybe invite him to do more, Dean was sliding his hands over the top of your breasts, thumbing your nipples through the tank top and thin bra you were wearing.

“Dean,” you gasped in surprise.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, his breath warm against your ear.

Sam’s fingers slipped beneath the edge of your jeans, caressing your stomach carefully. He glanced up at you, his hazel eyes flashing, either with lust or laughter, you weren’t quite sure.

“No,” you moaned as Dean pulled your tank top up, cupping your breasts in his large hands.

“Do you want Sam to stop?” he asked.

Sam released the button on your jeans and slid down the zipper, his long fingers grazing your pussy through your tiny red thong. Your hips jerked, bringing a smile to his face.

You shook your head, temporarily forgetting how to speak as Sam dropped his head, pressed his nose against you, and inhaled deeply.

Dean pulled the tank top over your head and made quick work of your bra, while Sam tugged off your jeans, leaving you in nothing but that tiny red thong. Somehow the boys maneuvered you onto the nest of blankets, Sam’s head still between your legs, Dean stretched out beside you, one hand on your stomach, one pinching and twisting the nipple of one breast while he suckled the other.

Sam mouthed you, his tongue tracing your folds, pressing the soft cotton material of the panties against your clit. He did it again and again, teasing you until you were begging him for more, your hips rising up to meet his mouth.

“Sam, please,” you moaned.

He hooked a finger in one side of the thong, Dean hooked a finger in the other and with one hard yank, they tore the flimsy material from your body. Sam’s tongue snaked out of his mouth and licked a long, slow stripe through your wet folds, while Dean moved up your neck, kissing you, the taste of whiskey and mint filling your mouth as he kneaded and caressed your breasts.

Sam’s hands slid under your ass, lifting you to his mouth, his tongue sliding inside you, lapping and licking. Dean slid one hand down your stomach, quickly and easily finding your clit, gently rubbing it as Sam ate you out.

You could feel the orgasm coming, feel your nerve endings tingling in anticipation, overwhelmed by everything the Winchesters were doing to you. When Sam pushed two fingers in alongside his tongue and Dean somehow gently twisted your clit expertly between his fingers as he bit at your nipple, everything went white, Strange gasping, mewling sounds were coming out of you as the orgasm rushed through you.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Dean murmured as he held you, his fingers still caressing your clit. “Do you like that? Do you like what Sammy’s doing to you? Feels good, doesn’t it?” His voice was thick with need and desire, his rough, calloused hand tight on your waist as he held you for his brother. He leaned down, his lips on your ear. “Wait until I get my mouth on you.”

Those words pushed you right over the edge. You held onto Dean, your hands tight on his arm as you came with a satisfied cry.

The boys held you, kissing you and caressing you until the orgasm had worked its way through you, Sam sat up and wiped his hand across his mouth, grinning widely.

“Fucking hell, Sam, move it. I want to taste her,” Dean said, pushing his brother out of the way. He pulled your legs over his shoulders as he laid soft kisses over your stomach and hips and slid his fingers through your wet folds.

Sam stood up and pulled off his jeans and t-shirt before falling to his knees beside you, smiling that adorable smile of his, the one that made your heart twist in your chest. You reached for him, his head dropping back, eyes closing, as you palmed his cock through his tight boxer briefs. He leaned down and kissed you, his large hand splayed over your stomach, his tongue darting out to lick at your lips before plunging into your mouth and sucking your tongue into his mouth.

You could feel the burn from Dean’s two days worth of stubble on the inside of your thighs as his mouth roamed over you, licking, sucking and kissing you. He brought you right up to the edge and then and only then did he slide his tongue into your pussy, stabbing it in and out, over and over, his thumb pushing into you, deep inside you, pressing repeatedly and insistently against your g-spot.

You were writhing and squirming, desperately trying to keep yourself together so that you could make the boys feel as good as they were making you feel. You ran your hand down Sam’s chest to his stomach, pushing his boxers down so you could take him in your hand. With your other hand, you wrapped your fingers in Dean’s hair, urging him on. You stroked Sam as Dean worked his magic between your legs. It didn’t take long before you were coming again, your back arching off the floor as you screamed Dean’s name.

Dean stood up and hurriedly stripped off his clothes while Sam pulled you into his lap, wrapping your legs around his waist, his cock rubbing against your overstimulated pussy. You moaned, dropping your head to rest it on his shoulder as he fondled your breasts, his large hands completely covering them. He reached for his jeans and a second later, he put a condom in your hand. You ripped it open then slid it down his hard shaft. He lifted you effortlessly and held you as he entered you, groaning as your warm heat surrounded him.

A few seconds later, you felt a hard body against your back and Dean was wrapping his arms around you from behind and placing wet, open-mouthed kisses to your neck and shoulders. Sam held you, helping you move as you rode him; Dean was tight against you, grinding against you, the hard line of his cock pressing against your ass, his hands on your breasts, his thumbs brushing over the nipples. You reached behind yourself and took hold of him, stroking him as Sam pounded into you. You leaned your head back against Dean’s shoulder, eyes closed, letting the feel of the Winchesters surrounding you work its way through your body.

Sam’s hands were on your thighs, his chest pressed against yours, encouraging you to ride him hard, while Dean was rutting against you from behind, his cock sliding through your hand, kissing you everywhere, touching you everywhere, You were unbelievably, impossibly close to another climax, the coil in your stomach wound so tight you thought you might break. Your head was spinning, dizzy with the sensations that were overwhelming you.

Sam pulled your hips down, hard, burying himself deep inside you. He came with a loud grunt, his fingers tightening hard enough on your hips that you knew it would leave bruises.

You didn’t even have time to catch your breath before Dean was pulling you away from his brother and laying you on the floor in the pile of blankets. You watched as he slid a condom down his impressive length and then he was sliding into you,filling you completely. He pulled your legs around him, your feet resting on the back of his thighs. He leaned over you, his forehead against yours, kissing you softly as he thrust into you with long, deep strokes.

You met Dean thrust for thrust, moaning his name as he moved inside you, your fingers clenched tightly in the blankets underneath you.

Sam took one of the hands you had fisted in the blankets and held it loosely in his, pulling it to his lips to kiss your fingers. He brushed his fingers through your hair, leaning down to whisper in your ear. Dean took your other hand, his mouth against your other ear. Both boys were whispering to you, telling you that you were beautiful, that you were perfect, such a good girl, come on baby, come on. You were gasping and moaning, using your legs to pull Dean deeper and deeper into you. He rubbed a hand up and down your leg as he rocked into you and then his hips stuttered, and his thrusts became even harder, even deeper until you were both coming, him with a low growl and you with the brothers’ names on your lips.

You were gone, totally, utterly and completely spent, every muscle in your body aching in the best way possible. Dean placed soft kisses all along your neck and shoulder before pushing himself to his feet. Sam pulled a blanket over you, then he wrapped one arm around your waist and snuggled against your side. He pressed a kiss to your jaw, his nose smushed against your cheek.

“Thanks, Y/N,” he murmured.

Dean joined you a few minutes later, taking your hand in his. He put a hand to your face, holding your chin lightly as he turned you to look at him. He kissed you gently.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “That was awesome. Any time you want to play a game, Sam and I are all for it.”

 


End file.
